Greatest of Kisses
by scriiibble
Summary: 'He moved closer again and cupped her chin with her hands and brought her lips to his in the gentlest of kisses, a barely there brushing of his lips that sent shivers down her spin and made her heart skip a beat.' Sometimes even the greatest of kisses can't make the woman you love stay. Until she comes back, at least, because Andrew isn't planning on letting her go.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer- this does not, regrettably, belong to me. All characters belong to their rightful owners._

Prologue~

Margaret Tate was _not_ in a good mood. She was a highly achieved woman, and had always considered herself independent. She didn't need anyone. Except that today she was proved wrong.

Falling out of a boat hadn't been one of her most gracious moments, but it was because of that _jackass _that she had fallen out in the first place. It was actually because of the same absolute moron that she was in this mess in the first place. When she had hired him she had known that he was smart. He was good enough for the job; the only thing she had to do was keep him down. He was too good to be an assistant really, but she didn't want to lose him. He was always at her beck and call and although she knew he hated her he seemed to keep that at bay and try his best to keep her happy. Of course his best wasn't good enough for her but it was damn closer than all the others she'd had. She bossed him around, blackmailed him into everything from midnight tampon runs to this whole mess in Alaska.

Margaret was going to be deported and she, panicking, had gone with the first solution that ran through her mind. Marrying Andrew would give her enough of a connection the New York for her not to return to Canada and she forced him to lie to everyone. Which was what led her to be in _Alaska._ They had announced that they were engaged and off they went to meet his family. It had been her plan to stay completely detached and to stay focused on work- actually becoming emotionally involved with that spineless moron and his family hadn't even crossed her mind. Yet, a day or two into the weekend she had found herself telling him everything about herself. About the tattoo, her family, the fact she hadn't slept with a man in a year (and yes, that's all he got out of everything she said) and actually caring about what he thought, Then there was the next morning, when he was poking into her from behind after his parents knocked on the door so he had to jump up from the floor and climb in bedside her. His only explanation for that was "its morning" and she had to repress a shiver as she realised exactly what it was.

So maybe now she loved him. Just the tiniest,_ tiniest_ bit of her cared, which was why she had given up the game and told his family about the whole scam. Here she was, after being practically seduced by him, packing up her office for Canada.

Yes, the emotionless bitch of New York had let her feelings get in the way of what she wanted. She was being deported because she _cared _about how she was making Andrew feel and how it would hurt his family, so she left.

As she was explaining to- she had forgotten his name… some guy what to do with her boxes he pointed behind her.

"Yes. What, What?" she had no patience for anyone today, let alone this man, but she turned around anyway and saw…

Andrew?

"Andrew…" she glanced around self-consciously before her eyes flickered back to him. Everyone that was staring ducked back, away from her gaze. "Why are...why are you panting?" safe option. Emotionless bitches preferred to talk about other people's breathing patterns rather than emotions right? Right. She thought so.

"Because I've been running." He ambled forwards, around all the computers and desks. Towards her.

"Really?" She raised her eyebrows. "From Alaska?" She was still incredibly aware of all the gawking eyes on them.

"I need to talk to you."

"Yeah? Well, I don't have time to talk. I need to catch a 5.45 to Toronto." She turned back and handed the box to the guy. She really needed to make sure those got there- maybe she should write it all down for him-

"Margaret." She blocked out Andrew. Who could make an emotionless bitch talk to some moron anyway?

The moron she loved. Damn, that was hard to get used to.

"I need the boxes to go out today." She swallowed and carried on. "I want to make sure everything is-"

"Margaret! Stop talking!" Wow. Spineless Andrew actually had a spine. She flinched. Never the less Andrews little outburst made her turn around to face him. "Gotta say something."

"OK." She folded her arms across her chest and faced him, letting him have her full attention.

"This will just take a sec."

"Fine. What?" She was impatient. It wasn't that long until her flight and he was taking so long to say whatever it was he wanted to. She avoided anyone's eyes- especially his- and stared away from anything in particular.

"Three days ago, I loathed you." Wow that was an opening. She really didn't have time for this if he was just going to stress how much he hated her. "I used to dream about you getting hit by a cab. Or poisoned."

"Oh, that's nice." She said sarcastically.

"I told you to stop talking." He took another step. "Then we had our little adventure up in Alaska and things started to change. Things changed when we kissed." Her eyes flickered to up to his. Maybe he felt it too, maybe, just maybe he- no. no. no one could love her. "And when you told me about your tattoo. Even when you checked me out when we were naked." Following the last statement, the office was filled with low murmurs and Margaret cursed him. Did he have to say that? Her career was already in tatters. She averted her eyes again and a sharp look at the onlookers shut them up.

"Well, I didn't see anything..." She said, observing the onlookers. At least they were still scared of her.

"Yeah, you did." He said quickly before carrying on. "But I didn't realise any of this until I was standing alone. In a barn... wife-less. Now, you can imagine my disappointment when it suddenly dawned on me that the woman I love"- did he just say love? Suddenly her eyes were fixed on his. Love? "-is about to be kicked out of the country.

"So, Margaret. Marry me. Because I'd like to date you." The way he said it was so sweet, the honest open look on his face made her want to melt- but not as much as all the others in this room, considering all the gasps and ahhs- but she found herself shaking her head.

"Trust me." Margaret whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear, scanning the group of onlookers. "You don't really want to be with me." Her eyes landed on his again.

"Yes, I do."

"See, the thing is, there is a reason why I've been alone all this time." She gave a little shrug. "I'm comfortable that way. And I think it would just be a lot easier if we forgot everything that happened and I just left." She couldn't believe she was saying this.

"You're right." He took a couple of steps forwards, face serious. "That would be easier." Nodding, he agreed. But she could see in his eyes he wouldn't just let her leave. Had to make it harder on her, but suddenly she was scared.

She couldn't do this; she couldn't just forget everything she was for _Andrew_ of all people. She was being deported and that was that. Nothing he said could change that and did she really want to marry to him? He had hated her all these months so she had no reason to believe that this would change. Who would want her? She was the bitch of the office, and she knew there were more than one polls going round suggesting she was a merciless witch.

He moved closer again and cupped her chin with her hands and brought her lips to his in the gentlest of kisses, a barely there brushing of his lips that sent shivers down her spin and made her heart skip a beat. It was different to the kiss at her pretend engagement party, the quick first peck and then the longer kiss that was egged on by Andrews family. That had been soft and full of surprise at the feelings she at least got in that moment. This kiss encouraged her to throw her arms around his neck and pull him closer, completely forgetting in that moment that they had a full crowded audience watching them.

Andrews tongue gently parted her lips, asking permission to her mouth and it was at that moment, as his tongue brushed hers, that she was shocked into reality. Pulling away and backing off Margaret apologised before turning and leaving, just having the sense to remind the man with her boxes to send them as soon as possible.

Andrew ran his finger along his lips where hers had been moments later and sighed. Margaret Tate was the hardest women to figure out.

_So did you like it? Hate it? Please review and tell me what you think!_


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One~

Andrew tapped his pencil against his desk, staring through the glass door of his office and straight into hers. She looked good, he thought decidedly. Better, even, than she looked last year during their little adventure in Alaska, but that was just due to the time off she'd had. Her hair was longer and now hung down by her hips and the bags under her eyes had been replaced with a freshness that could only be achieved by a holiday. And that was exactly how Margaret Tate was treating her deportation from the country; like a holiday.

She had returned a week early. She was due back next Wednesday, and Andrew had been panicking about what he would say to her. What would she act like towards him? Would she treat him exactly the same as she did before Alaska or would they be more of equals now? They technically were equals since the place of Editor in chief had been relieved to a new man and so Margaret would work under him, at the same level as Andrew, as an editor.

Andrew had learnt a few speeches- one for all the situations he could think of. He'd practised for the past week, trying to predict the way she'd act towards him. Would she be friendly? That word wasn't anywhere in the list of words he'd describe her with. Would she be embarrassed? Angry? Or maybe she would just shun him? The list was endless, hence why he was _so _not ready for her return.

The new Editor and Chief, George Rhode was nice. More than nice. Rhode didn't reign the entire office with fear and hatred. He didn't fire people because they'd failed to do the impossible and he certainly didn't send his employees on midnight tampon runs.

He was a good boss.

Andrew had been due for a meeting with Rhode earlier in the day. He'd arrived at his office at exactly 3pm and upon knocking, he'd entered the room and Rhode had asked him to have a seat opposite his desk. "Ah, Mr Paxton. Glad for you to have joined us." Rhode had smiled and Andrew then noticed the woman sat in the chair next to him.

Margaret Tate.

Smiling politely (and closing his gaping mouth) wasn't easy to do but somehow he did, ignoring the slight skip of his heart and the grin that threatened to pull at his mouth until it reached both ears. Restraining himself from pulling her into a bear hug (aw, come _on. _ If there was one thing his mother had taught him it was that everybody needs a bear hug once in a while) wasn't easy either but somehow he did. His heart dampened slightly when she hardly even gave him a second glance which was ridiculous- they were in a meeting for God's sake.

But she was looking at him like he was a complete stranger.

Damn stubborn woman.

George Rhode didn't understand the significance of Margaret being back. In all truth, it was kind of stupid that he hadn't expected her return. Margaret Tate was nothing if not ambitious, and he should have known that being deported from the country wouldn't keep her away for long. Andrew smiled at her and, as George would expect from his employees, he shook her hand politely, pretending to be just as distant as she seemed to be.

Ten minutes later George Rhode looked uncomfortable. He had just proposed a partnership between his top editors- one who had an eye for the works and the other who had a legendary reputation in this office for her work. Unfortunately neither of the editors had said a word in the past 2 minutes.

"Or… not." George muttered half to himself. He had known of their history- it had been the main gossip in this office from the day he started here- but wasn't sure how much of it was rumoured and how much was actual fact. For example, he doubted that Andrew had really run the whole way from Alaska and he also doubted that Margaret had really fed Andrews's parent's dog to the eagles. He had heard of this type of partnership in other offices and it seemed to work well. Since George had started he'd been working overtime to try to get the business up to a higher standard than the other publishing agencies. He wanted to be the man who set the bar high enough that other companies would strive to be like this business.

George sighed. "Listen, guys. If you're not willing to try this out given your… history… together then-"

"Listen George." Margaret took over the conversation with a charming smile and a tone of authority. "I would be more than happy to work with Andrew. I'm just concerned that Andrew won't be able to concentrate on the work due to his… bitter feelings."

Andrew shot her an unbelieving look. Bitter feelings? How would she know what he was feeling due to the definite absence of her this past year.

"Fantastic." George responded with a smile of his own and both of their attentions then turned to Andrew. George's look seemed to ask him if he was going to be a man and step up too- and Andrew didn't like it.

He forced a smile and broke the silence. "Agreed."

After the meeting Andrew waited the couple of seconds for her to leave the office as well and fell into step beside her when she ignored him, beginning to walk in the opposite direction. "So, bitter feelings, huh?" He asked after a moment.

"Andrew, you're an idiot."

"What?!" That he hadn't been expecting. But then again, why should he expect any less from an emotionless bitch?

The emotionless bitch he just so happened to be in love with.

"You're an idiot." She repeated in and calm and collected voice that was almost factual.

"I am not an idiot." He grabbed her arm to halt her and turn her towards him. She stopped walking and looked up at his earnestly.

"You are, Andrew. You're the biggest idiot in this office. In the U.S even."

"And how have you come to this conclusion?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and running a hand over his hair.

"Andrew, Andrew, Andrew." She shook her head. "You're like this little puppy that gets kicked time and time again, but still comes back anyway, giving everyone puppy dog eyes." With that she turned and walked away- but without asking her to bring a cinnamon soy latte.

That had taken place almost 20 minutes ago and he had returned to the seclusion of his office, sipping _his_ cinnamon soy latte- yep, old habits die hard- and watching her through the glass doors of their offices whilst holding her beverage.

Margaret Tate was the exact opposite of Rhode. He should have been glad to see the back of her- everybody else was. The thing was, Alaska changed everything. It change how he saw her and now he actually understood why she was bitch to everyone she met. He understood why she never let anyone get too close to her. After the engagement scam came out last year his co-workers all said "oh, we understand now. We know why you were marrying her." They thought he did it for the promotion- which was exactly the reason he agreed to it in the first place- and were all relieved that he wasn't actually in love with her.

He kind of messed that up when he publically asked Margaret to marry him- for real this time- and all of his colleagues watched her reject him. He was absolutely sick of hearing "well, that's what you get for loving a merciless bitch, Andrew." And "Why on earth do you love her anyway? She's Satan's mistress, she'll never love you back."

Truth was, he wasn't in love with that Margaret. He was in love with the girl he met in Alaska, the girl who made him laugh and who charmed his family despite her reluctance to talk to them in the beginning. He was in love with the woman who secretly wanted a family of her own and who had told him about her tattoo that night.

The woman who had left him at the alter for all the right reasons- because she loved him.

He knew she loved him, which was what made it all the more confusing as to why she'd left him.

He stood puzzling over that fact, still attempting to gain the courage to deliver her coffee.

Who did she think she was, anyway? Thinking she could still treat him like her personal slave (ahm, _assistant) _after all this time.

Conservative bitch.


End file.
